


Blame

by fivefootnothing



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-31
Updated: 2010-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-23 19:47:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/254185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fivefootnothing/pseuds/fivefootnothing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Quote: Everyone's quick to blame the alien. - Aeschylus</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame

The cuffs cut faint furrows into the Doctor’s wrists, not deep enough to draw blood, but enough to irritate and redden the skin beneath the metal. A fascinatingly resilient alloy it was, too, impervious to his attempts to wriggle free or pick the lock.

The fact that the cuffs briefly tightened their hold each time he struggled was an unwelcome surprise as well.

“Look, are these absolutely necessary?” He lifted his coupled hands to show the guard, a dour-faced Judoon who scowled at him but said nothing.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Would you at the very least explain to me why I’ve been arrested?”

Another scowl, though this time the Judoon managed to capture some of the Doctor’s vocal imprint on his translation device, downloading it for later use.

The Judoon led him through a maze of dark, musty corridors, and every time the Doctor dawdled to have a peek inside an open room or through a window, he’d get prodded sharply in the back by the barrel of the guard’s weapon. Eventually, the twisted hallways led to a single room with gigantic doors.

The guard clenched a gloved hand on the Doctor’s shoulder and shoved him inside. Within the room was a motley collection of aliens and a team of helmeted Judoon. Among the captured included a Voord, a Wirrn, a one-eyed creature whom the Doctor suspected was a relative of Alpha Centauri, and three Ogrons. Once the Doctor arrived, the Judoon all moved as one, forcing the entire group of handcuffed individuals into a tight line.

“Jo-Ko-Lo-Ro-Sko-Ko!” barked the Doctor’s guard, and the rest of the Judoon stood at attention, stepping away from the suspects but training their weapons on the lot. No escapes would happen today.

They positioned the Doctor to stand in between two of the thuggish, ape-like Ogrons, both of whom towered over the Time Lord. Intensely white lights were suddenly trained on the line, and they all attempted to shield their eyes (or eye, in the case of the Centaurian) from the painfully bright beams. The lights soon switched off, however, as suddenly as they’d flipped on, and the Judoon flanked the Doctor, weapons raised against the most dangerous of suspects.

“Ah...” he said, frowning at the possibility that he’d been identified as the suspect. “But according to article KLT-5210 of the Palmati Accords, Isn’t it required for the prisoner to be given information?”

“Prisoner 12255,” intoned the unhelmeted Judoon, in a guttural translation of his words to Gallfreyan. “Planet of Origin: Gallifrey. Species: Time Lord. Designation: The Doctor.”

“I meant information about the illegality of my actions.”

“Crime: utilization of contraband botanical artifact as ornamentation.”

The Doctor’s frown deepened. “Ridiculous! How could wearing celery be construed as illegal?”

“No decorative vegetables,” barked the Judoon.

The Doctor pondered possible representation during the trial, though between the choices of Peri and Erimem, he suspected it might be best to defend himself.


End file.
